Shiver
by ncfan
Summary: -Aizen x Hinamori- Within the garden of good and evil.


**Characters**: Hinamori, Aizen**  
Summary**: Within the garden of good and evil.**  
Pairings**: HinaAizen**  
Warnings/Spoilers**: Spoilers for Soul Society arc**  
Timeline**: No timeline needed**  
Author's Note**: Hinamori is the mistress of self-delusion. Say it with me.  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach.

* * *

It's not just the obvious that attracts her to him but the inkling of what lurks underneath as well: the darkness that clings beneath the skin, the thing she can never put a finger on but will always know to be there.

Hinamori goes, not like a moth to flame but like a moth to the utter absence of light on down the path she's stepped off the main trail to find, the one with the overgrown garden with trees so thick they obscure the cobblestone. There's nothing to do but keep walking, even when Hinamori is blinded beyond all perception.

Following Aizen has become more of a chase into the labyrinth and the verdant garden of night than Hinamori ever expected.

A strange fascination lures her in, traps her even though she doesn't want to leave. The desire in her has one source alone, Hinamori knows, keeping her inexorably bound to this existence, and that only makes it even more intoxicating.

Hinamori isn't entirely sure she knew what she was getting herself into at the first with Aizen-taicho. He was a kind, gentle, cheery man, but in the same moment when he seemed so closer to the lower ranks he was distant and remote and seemed worlds away. She felt like she was chasing after a shadow, a two-dimensional illusion, even though she was so captivated and enthralled by this man.

Her relief when it proves that the distance is nothing more than a mask threatens to overwhelm her, and Hinamori is happy, happy, giddy, flying higher than she ever thought she could and surmounting the moon in the process. She never thought she could be so happy as she is now.

The rest of the world pales in comparison to her Aizen. No one can ever seem fully in-color to her after seeing him, vivid, vibrant, so wonderfully _alive_ and just wonderful. Everything else is as gray as drab and dreary stone.

Shifting through her worlds Hinamori only ever really sees Aizen anymore. Others in her world, she of course registers but doesn't ever really absorb them. They filter clean through. Hitsugaya-kun, Rangiku-san, Kira-kun and all the others are little more than passing mirages that shimmer on the horizon but dissolve as she gets closer. Aizen may as well be the only one who's real anymore.

This garden is dangerous, she notices. Not all the plants restrict their fare to sunlight and the nutrients from soil, and while most of the carnivorous only prey on insects there are those that snap at her with iridescent ruby speckles flashing in the moonlight if she gets too close, one catching at her flesh and leaving crescent scars.

It's amazing how even the spilling of blood doesn't faze Hinamori anymore.

Numbness comes, she realizes, with the intoxicating allure of the darkness that lies hidden just beneath the surface of what Aizen is willing to show her. He still holds himself apart from her—he wouldn't be the Aizen she loves so dearly if he didn't, and it's still, eternally appropriate for the captain to maintain a certain level of propriety with all others, even with his lover.

Others later think Hinamori can't see it. But that is just an assumption and a wrong one at the deepest level. How could she not see the shadows gathering at the edges of her lover's face, adding a dark sheen to his glasses lenses? She's not blind; Hinamori could—_can_ see darkness radiating off from him like a cloud.

But she's never known where that darkness comes from.

That is the only strand that remains unbound; Hinamori can not identify the source of the darkness in her captain. She suspects that she's one of the few who can see it at all; surely there's no one who can divine where it comes from.

This is the moment when Hinamori thinks she should be afraid. This is the moment in time in which she thinks she should realize that something is wrong here, that maybe she should simply duck out and back away while she still can and retreat to the light where everything may be dull but at least she can see all of it.

And this is the moment in time, in which Hinamori decides that she simply doesn't care.

This garden is full of hidden dangers but it is so beautiful too, bathed in moonlight and the ghostly anti-shadows of far and distant stars. She can make out every type of flower that has ever crossed her sight in the darkness; the whole air buzzes with the delicious aroma and perfume of exotic blooms that Hinamori will never see anywhere but here.

And she's still looking for him, somewhere in this stone and leafy labyrinth of a walled garden, as the walls grow taller and the light of the moon seems dimmer and further away, though Hinamori doesn't notice how dark it goes.

She loves him, completely, with all of her being. How can she ever let him go?

There's something following behind her in this dark garden. Hinamori can hear it against the overgrown stone paths—dry rattling of scales grinding on cobblestone. She can't see it, can't sense its presence when she turns around and with darting eyes focuses her gaze on the shadows of branches and petals.

But Hinamori thinks she should find Aizen-taicho soon.

They're not alone here.


End file.
